GERTRUDE

                                                            Gertrude

            Shesat upon a stool, looking towards the phone with impatience, waiting for a callalready some quarter of an hour late. She chewed dried apricots as she swung a foot back and forth, now andagain brushing bare skin against the cool metal legs of the stool.  Her foot came to a rest as the phone piercedthe silence of the kitchen, only a moment before she heard the bell for thefront door ring.

            Utteringa sound close to a growl, she leapt from the stool and picked up the phone.

            “Hello.”  She said.

            “Wendy?”  A man’s voice, her man’s voice, came throughthe other end.

            “Whoelse could it be?”  She answered; a briefsmile forced itself upon her face.

            “Iknow, but it is better to be sure, don’t you think?”
            “Yes,” she answered. “Hold on,I’ve got someone at the door.”

            Sheplaced the receiver on the counter and ran towards the door, her feet slappingloud on the tile floor.  She stoppedshort of the entrance, giving herself a moment to push aside a few rogue blondecurls that loosed themselves in running. Once satisfied she pulled hard on the latch.

            “Hi.”  She said.

            Inthe doorway stood a neighbor, the neighbor sent to check on her at her aunt’swishes.  He stood looking fresh and tan,the beginnings of silver in his dark, wavy hair, which covered hisforehead.  He winked a hello and wavedhis hand in a friendly manner.

            “Howare you?”  He asked his voice deep andpleasing, the sound of which Wendy somehow found amusing, for her initial smilewidened into a laugh.

            “Fine.”  She said, looking at his body, firm and thickunder a gray tee shirt.  She stood silentas she watched him, balancing one foot upon a red painted toe and one handleaning against the door.

            “Ijust thought I’d check in on you.”  Hesaid, his smile wide, showing polished white teeth.

            “Thanks.  You want to come in for a second; I’ve got afriend waiting on the phone.”  Withoutwaiting for an answer, she bounded back into the kitchen.  He followed her and took a seat at the dinnertable, resting his hands in his lap.

            “It’squite a nice place your aunt has here.” He said, although he did not look impressed.

            “Yes.”  Wendy agreed, then into the phone.  “Brad is here, the one my aunt asked to keepan eye on me.”

            Bradlooked around, visibly bored, waiting.

            “Travis,don’t be like that, please.  I don’t needthis right now.”

            Silenceon the other end.

            “Letme call you back.”

            “Ok.”  Travis answered, not hiding the displeasurein his voice.  She replaced the receiveron the hook and sighed.

            “Yourbeau, I presume.”  Brad said.

            “Yes.”  She answered. “He gets jealous if I even talk with another man.”

            Bradnodded his head and laughed.

            “Idon’t blame him, you are quite attractive.” He said.

            “Thankyou.”  She said, blushing. 

            “Indeed,the way you look in those shorts is certain to cause jealousy.”

            Shewaved her hand in disagreement, but knew how well the outfit looked on her,tight shorts, baby blue and cut high on her thighs with print butterflies, anda tee shirt, which pressed tight against her breasts.

            “You’retoo kind.”  She said, her eyes on him,loving the way his hair fell lazy and accidental onto his face. 

            Shebusied herself for a moment with the dishes from breakfast, hurriedly cleaningcups and pans.  Brad took a pack ofcigarettes from his shorts and lit one, exhaling the smoke from her direction.

            “Thiswon’t take a moment.”  She said.

            “Takeyour time.”  He answered.  He sat smoking and watching her, his eyesbright and shiny and dark as his gaze moved over her legs. 

            “CanI offer you coffee, tea perhaps?”  Sheasked, not turning to face him.

            “Acoffee would be lovely, thank you.”

            Sheturned and smiled at him, feeling heat in her face and a pleasant tickle ofnerves in her stomach.  She pressed thebutton, two cups, and waited.  She tookcups out of the cabinet and milk from the refrigerator and made her way to thetable, sitting close to him. 

            “Doyou take sugar?”  She asked.

            “No,thank you.”  He said, smiling. 

            Shesat in silence, watching him, staring at him smile.  She brushed her toe on the tile, looking upat him through her eyelashes. 

            “Howdo you like it in the country?”  Heasked.

            “Thereisn’t much to do.”  She said, staringinto his eyes.  He sipped at his coffeeand nodded understanding.

            “Itmust be lonely for you here.”  Hesaid.  She sighed and agreed; her eyesstill on his.  She picked at the coasterwith her fingers and wondered if he found her attractive or if he were beingnice to her. 

            “Doyou ride horses?”  He asked.

            “Yes,but not as often as I’d like.”

            Hesmiled; eyes bright with knowledge.

            “Ihave horses.  Would you like to ride withme some afternoon?” 

            “I’dlove to; I haven’t been in an age.”

            “Thenit is settled.”  He said as he stood totake his leave.

            “Goingso soon?”  She asked. Her voice filledwith eagerness, hope.

            “Imust tend to my babies.”  She walked withhim towards the door, sad to see him leaving.

            “Thanksfor stopping by.”  She said her faceflush as he left her.

            Ashort time later the phone rang once again.

            “Hello.”  She answered, still in her reverie of Brad.

            “It’sme.”  The voice said.

            “Isaid I would call you back.” 

            “Youdon’t cut our conversation short because you’re flirting with theneighbor.”  He said, his voice rising.

            “Travis,don’t.”

            Silenceon the other end.  Finally, Travis spokeagain, his voice calmer, quieter.

            “Whatdid he want?”

            “Heasked me to go riding with him.”  Sheanswered, knowing it to be the wrong thing to say the moment she spoke.  She heard him sigh into the phone.

            “Areyou going?”  He asked.

            “Iwant to go, yes.”

            Shewaited for him to answer, waiting for the accusations and incriminations, buthe simply said,

            “Promiseme you’ll behave.”

            “Afterall this time you don’t trust me?”

            “Yes,I do.  Just promise anyway.”

            Sheheld the phone away for a moment in frustration, not wanting to deal with hisjealousy.

            “Ipromise.”  She said and hung up thephone.

            Wendywoke late the following morning, well past noon if the angle of sunlight, whichpoured warm and thick through the blinds, was to be trusted.  She wiped sleep from her eyes and pulled thecovers to one side, but did not rise. She basked in the afternoon sunlight, content to enjoy a few moments ofrest.  Her eyes wandered over the room,one still strange to her, taking in the few trinkets and personal effects shebrought for the summer.  Her gaze lockedon a chapbook, written by Travis for her birthday some three months past.  She exhaled in pleasure at the memory,wrapping her arms about her shoulders in delight, her thick fingers white frompressure.

            Sheswung her feet out of bed and made her way to the bathroom.  She removed two towels from the linen closet,both an identical white with blue stripes and closed the door.  At that moment the phone rang, bringing herhand to a halt, frozen on the faucet. She waited for the rings to cease before she ran the water for her bath.

            Shesettled into the water and closed her eyes, letting warmth wash over herbody.  She heard the phone ring twicemore, but did not so much as open her eyes. The next sound to reach her ears was that of Brad’s voice insistentlycalling her name.

            “Wendy.”

            “Brad,I’m taking a bath.”  She called outthrough the door, the thought crossing her mind that she wouldn’t object to himwalking in at that moment.

            “Itried calling you a few times to ask you to ride with me.  I figured I’d better check up on you just incase.”

            “Thankyou.  I thought it was Travis, so I justlet the machine answer.”

            “Iunderstand.  Is everything ok?” 

            “Yes.”  She scrubbed her skin red with haste andmassaged shampoo over her hair, wondering if he remained outside the door.

            Shedried herself quickly and wrapped a towel around her waist, smiling at howlittle flesh it covered.  She smoothedher hair back over her ears and opened the door, the hallway empty.  She walked to her room, happy to see Bradstanding by the bed, inspecting her books.

            “I’msorry.  I saw the books and couldn’tresist taking a look.” 

            “Itis fine.  Those books belong to Travis.”

            Bradopened the book in his hands, The Trial by Kafka.

            “Hehas rather dark taste.”  He said.  He looked up from the book and eyed her,running his gaze over her legs with such deep longing she felt as if he weretouching instead of looking.  Momentspassed and still he stared, a smile on his face, which made his look young, hiseyes bright, dark.  Tingles crept up herlegs as he touched her skin with his eyes and removed the towel from herwaist.  The sunlight caught his hair andmade wavy shadows of translucent yellows and gold.  He put the book on the night stand.

            “I’lllet you change.”  He said.

            Shewatched him leave, regret mixed with relief. Thought of Travis flooded into her mind and her eyes could not avoidseeing the chapbook.  She saw the cover,blue with yellow butterflies, no matter how much she wished for it todisappear.

            Wendydressed and hurried downstairs.  Shetalked with Brad for a few minutes, enjoying the manner in which he stared ather blatantly, smiled at her daringly. His eyes shone with desire and she knew going to ride with him to be adangerous idea. 

            “Idon’t feel well.”  She said to him.  She wanted time to herself to think, to bealone with her thoughts of Brad and of Travis.

            Bradoffered his sympathies and extended his offer once again to take her riding anyday she felt better.  She sighed as heleft and did not answer the phone for the next few hours, preferring to sitidle in front of the television, trapped in her thoughts.  She watched the afternoon talk shows withlittle interest and wished to escape the house, which she had not done in herfirst week.

            Afterthe evening news she went down to the kitchen to make dinner for herself.  She saw Brad’s number pinned by a magnet onthe fridge and a photo of Travis on the counter.  She grabbed the paper from under the magnetand threw it to the floor.  She leanedagainst the counter, blonde curls covering her face, and looked out thewindow.  She saw his house, a Victorianaffair in light blue, which dominated the view of the hill beyond her aunt’syard.  She opened the back door and stoodon the porch; her eyes trained on the single room with light and wondered if hewere home.  She went inside, grabbed thepaper off the floor, and dialed before her courage waned.

            “Hello.”  He answered.

            “It’sWendy.”  She said.  Her nerves felt alive and raw, sweat formingon her upper lip.

            “Thisis a nice surprise.”  He said.  He sounded pleased, perhaps a bit arrogant.

            “Ihope I’m not calling at a bad time.  I ambored here and wanted to talk.”  Shecould not believe her own daring, hardly believing the conversation to be real.

            “No,it isn’t a bad time at all.  Have youeaten dinner?”

            “Notyet.”

            “Shallwe go?”  He asked, painfully forward,direct.

            “Idon’t know.”  She stammered, once againhesitating.  She thought of Travis andgripped the counter with her hand to steady herself.

            “Youhaven’t gotten out of that house in a week. It simply isn’t healthy.  Let metake you to dinner.”

            Sheremained silent for a few moments, considering, running through her mind theexcuses she would tell Travis.

            “I’llbe there in fifteen minutes.”  He said,hanging up the phone before she could object.

            Shestood motionless, a hand clutching the phone as she stared at nothing, fearrising within her. 

            “Ishould call him back.”  She mumbled toherself.  She paced back and forth, fromthe stove to the kitchen table, biting her nails.  She looked at the clock and her eyes shinywith emotion made her way to her bedroom to get ready. 

            Sheapplied eyeliner and lipstick and had just put on a black skirt, which huggedtightly against her hips, when she heard a horn in the driveway.  She bounced down the stairs in excitement andlooked out into the driveway, not believing him to be there in the flesh,sitting behind the wheel of a Mercedes Benz.

            “Youlook wonderful.”  He said as sheapproached the car.  She blushed scarletand smiled as he opened the door for her. 

            “Thisis such a nice car.”  She managed to say,her eyes on him as she ran her hand over the leather.  He laughed a response and drove, squealingthe tires as he left the driveway.  Shelaughed, delighted and rested her head against the seat, her eyes still on him.

            Thedinner impressed her more than his car. From the moment the maître de pushed Wendy’s chair in under her, astable separated from the main dining room by a stained glass partition, a tablecovered in white silk, she felt the night to be sealed.  By the time Sergio, their waiter, brought aselection of wine, she felt as if she were a mere player in a story, merelyacting out her part, being awed and amazed.

            Shedrank three glasses of wine before dinner and felt pleasurably dizzy.   A light breeze from an overhead fan tickledher neck and a contented warm feeling passed over her as the first course mixedwell with the wine.  She smiled ateveryone, a wide smile, even at the bus boy, a mere teenage whom she made eyesat blatantly.  She smiled specially atBrad, whom through all her smiling stroked her bare leg under cover of silk andglass.  She made no effort to discouragehis advances and went so far as to give his hand a squeeze as he rubbed herskin.

            “Areyou enjoying yourself?”  He asked. 

            “Verymuch.”  She said slurring her words abit, the beginnings of a good drunk settling upon her.

            “Thatpleases me.”  He leaned over the tabletowards her.  He took his face firm inhis hands and kissed her.  Her eyesremained closed as the taste of wine and cigarettes lingered on her lips.

            “Shallwe go?”  He asked, his hands covering herown, the warmth of which pleased her.

            “Yes.”  She murmured the taste of him still in hermouth.

           

            Hehelped her up the front stairs of his home, through a large French door,covered on all sides by beveled glass. He led her, without asking or feeling a need to ask, up a wood staircaseto his bedroom, helping her out of her white blouse as he laid her on the bed.

            “Thankyou for dinner.”  She murmured.

            “Don’tthink a wink about it.”  He said, lyingon his side behind her.  He massaged herbreasts with his hands, sending ripples of pleasure through her.  He moved his hands over her, discovering andteasing, his fingers finding soft places, warm places.  She moaned softly under his touch.  She felt his fingers everywhere; felt himdrag his nails over her legs and trace over her feet, delicate and slow.  She also felt him pull gentle but sure on herskirt and thought of Travis with sadness as he placed her clothes in a pilenext to the bed.

            Sheopened her eyes with effort, his face floating somewhere above her, refusing tobe still.  She attempted a smile, a weakone, but gave up, it took too much energy. She closed her eyes and raised her arms, placing hands upon his back.

            “Pleasebe nice.”   She said.  It was all she could think to say.

            Abreeze made noise against the window.  Thenoise increased, the wind howling and branches rapping on the house.  The racket continued to increase in intensityand volume, growing steadily as the clock marked sure time.  Then, just as suddenly as the wind started,when it seemed the very windows threatened to shatter, the wind ceased.

            Thesun flowed thick heat into the room. Wendy sat up, her head pounding, disorientation washing over her.  With great effort, she managed to open hereyes.  Horror rushed through her body,bringing her to a sudden alertness, as she failed to recognize the room.  She saw him, naked and sleeping next to her,and tears forced themselves into her eyes, shrouding the room in a blurry haze.

            Shegot to her feet and dressed, the tears flowing over her cheeks and waves ofnausea passing over her body as she ran from the house.  She rushed into the front door of her aunt’sand ran up the stairs to her room.  Shethrew herself on the bed, clutching a small plush bear to her chest.  She cried quietly and fell into a restlesssleep.

           

            Shewoke to the sound of the telephone.  Shesaw the darkness outside and wondered how long she slept.  She rubbed her eyes and ran into thekitchen.  She snapped the phone out ofits cradle with her hand.

            “Travis?”  She said.

            “Wendy.  Where have you been?”  His voice filled with panic and lack ofsleep.

            “Iwatched the kids next door.  The parentsdidn’t get home until late, so I slept on the couch.”

            “I’vebeen calling for the last day and a half. Where were you today?”

            “Ifell asleep when I got home.  I must nothave heard the phone.  Forgive me.” 

            Shebegan to sob, the tears coming beyond her control. 

            Hesaid.

            “Ilove you, Travis.”  She said through hersobs.

            “Ilove you too.”  He said.  Silence fell for a moment and she cried. Hereyes filled with tears.

            “Promiseme you won’t do anything like this again.”

            “Iwon’t, Travis.  I won’t.”

            Sheput down the phone and sat in the kitchen chair, staring out the window at thehouse upon the hill.